


The Goth and the Jock

by bittertahiri (theblankartist)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Allura is the quarterback, Alternate Universe - College/University, Introspection, Kisses, Lance is head cheerleader, M/M, SHEITH - Freeform, Sleepy Cuddles, Sorry Not Sorry, background allurance, everyone else fell to the wayside, goth!Shiro, jock!keith, maybe this will be a series?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-05-13 10:14:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19249111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theblankartist/pseuds/bittertahiri
Summary: The team circled up to begin their warm-ups; Shiro mused about how his life was so different than he could have planned for himself, but it felt so good to be loved and wanted and to have someone to share all of himself with. At one point in time, he might have even ridiculed idiots like himself in love. Goth!Shiro/Jock!Keith fic for @effitsfranki on Twitter





	The Goth and the Jock

**Author's Note:**

> Three months ago I got permission from @effitsfranki on Twitter to write about their art and I finally had time to type all of this out! Please enjoy and check out the [reference](https://twitter.com/i/moments/1106402915802144768) that inspired it!

Shiro stomped across the concrete bleachers, headphones blaring a double bass pedal and screaming guitar in his ears. 

The cool autumn breeze rushed past him, causing a shiver to walk down his spine. Even with a thick, well-worn leather jacket, he could still feel the changing weather and the stark difference between day and night in the desert.

He let his bag drop off his shoulder and flopped onto the farthest end of the metal bleachers, close enough to see the football field and the raucous men warming up on it, but far enough away that he didn't have to hear the giggling of the cheerleaders on the track below.

No one had ever told him how bizarre college would be.

Movies gave him the impression that it would be parties non-stop, that somehow the campus would still have some semblance of a social hierarchy, and that he would find himself pigeonholed into being a loner.

He quickly discovered that while there were people who still toyed with the idea of the popular kids and geeks and outcasts, most were just desperate to get on and off campus with as little struggle as possible. He made pleasant acquaintances in classes who were interested in his mind and his work ethic, especially when it came to studying for exams. 

While Shiro had spent most of his time in high school behaving as the mild-mannered, upstanding, outgoing student body president that everyone thought he was, there had always been a darker side of him, a part that didn’t want to be perfect and easily-approachable all the time.

After he was honorably discharged from the Army, and given a brand new prosthetic as a thanks for his service and an apology for the PTSD, Shiro gave up all pretense that he was as wholesome as he’d always pretended.

He pierced his ears, grown out and dyed his hair, and ditched the polos and khakis. He stopped giving everyone a plastic smile, and began allowing himself to feel any and all emotions. Including the more violently embodied ones.

That was how Keith had found him; another late night in the gym, just Shiro alone with a storm of emotions and a punching bag.

It was hard to process the pain of being alone after his jiisan died, but he’d started going to therapy and taking those choking feelings and turning them into spent energy. If he’d thought he was fit trying to get into the military, it was nothing compared to this.

Keith had been finishing up his extra cardio and had happened to pass by the small room and paused when he realized that he wasn’t the only person left.

Shiro should have rebuffed a stranger’s interjection into his regiment.

But he had been so happy ever since that he’d taken a second to acknowledge Keith.

\------

Shiro had made himself comfortable many times on the football stadium benches. Since he and Keith had met, even before they had started dating, 

Shiro would take the short trip to lower campus to watch the football team’s practices. After, he and Keith would go to either of their rooms and shower off the day, followed by a dinner of takeout before they went separate ways. 

Things had always felt so easy with Keith. 

They fit seamlessly into each other’s lives. Shiro felt like he found the piece he hadn’t known was missing. Keith was a bright, strong, sarcastic man who seemed more amused than put off by his all-black attire, spiked jewelry, and two-toned deathhawk. Keith was vibrant, a fiery kind of passion, one that consumed and warmed from within.

It was almost enough to melt years of ice off Shiro’s heart that had built up from the years of loneliness.

He spent so long wanting a real relationship, something tangible to hold onto, someone to hold through the night and on lazy weekend mornings.

The first time Keith spent the night had been absolute bliss.

Keith was just as beautiful all sleep-mussed and groggy, mumbling protests against the spanse of Shiro’s back, as he was after a hard-won game.

Even with the other man’s unruly locks tangling in his own, sour morning breath clogging up with shared space, and the smell of stale sweat from a warm night pressed against each other; it was still perfect.

And it stole all of Shiro’s thinking ability when the strong arms that had spent all night wrapped around his waist tugged and pulled to get him to turn around to face each other.

“G’morning, Starlight.”

Keith’s raspy greeting snaked up Shiro’s spine and he sighed in content, face smushing into his pillow. He squirmed under the covers, carefully tucking his hair behind him, and leaned forward to press their lips together. He purposefully kept his eyes open to be able to see the small, sweet smile that crept across his boyfriend’s face. “Morning, Moonshine. You ready for breakfast?”

Shiro punctuated the question with another kiss, reveling in how his heart fluttered in his chest. 

He freed his prosthetic hand from the covers to brush Keith’s shaggy bangs out of his face; it didn’t take long for him to get lost in those beautiful amethyst eyes. He couldn’t stop looking.

The intensity lit Keith’s cheeks up in an embarrassed flush, still unused to being the center of Shiro’s attention.

“Stop staring at me like that, Takashi.” Keith protested half-heartedly, lowering his gaze to try to cool his cheeks.

Shiro snorted, “Like what, baby?”

Keith’s sharp gaze shot up, eyebrows furrowed in mock frustration. There was still fondness that lingered, though, so Shiro pressed on.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

Keith could hardly stand the smugness in his boyfriend’s voice. Shiro’s openness with emotion when they were together always took him by surprise. In daily life, Shiro didn’t bother to share with many people, though he interacted with them nonchalantly. The intimacy they shared on all levels was so new.

“Don’t want to get up.” Keith’s voice was reedy as he buried himself against Shiro.

Shiro snorted at the childish response. It was too much. God, his boyfriend was too much.

He ducked his head down to press gentle kisses against the long, pale column of Keith’s throat.

At the soft sigh he gained in response, Shiro adjusted his hold on Keith’s body, tugging them until they were chest-to-chest and hip-to-hip. His heart felt so light, so full of joy.  
And Keith had become a constant presence in his life that he almost couldn’t remember the pain and loneliness of his life before his jiisan died.

It wasn’t a perfect healing, but it was nice to not be alone in the world anymore.

\-----

Now, ten months into their official relationship, and almost two years into their friendship, Shiro was a common sight on the sidelines during practice, games, and just about any other football-related events. 

He looked down on the field where Lance was calling the cheerleading team to attention for the scrimmage, his vibrant (if grating) voice echoing through the lightly populated stands.

Lance caught his eye for a short moment, breaking form just long enough to smile in his direction before returning his full sight back to the rough run-through of their performance routine.

It should be so odd to be able to just casually be acknowledged by the cheerleading team.

Shiro had faced derision and rejection before, but had been pleasantly surprised to find that he was much more easily accepted by the athletics department than he would have thought; so much so, it had become a running joke that Keith needed his good luck charm to continue scoring all those touchdowns.

Once they’d gone steady, (and god, wasn’t that just the most cliche and fulfilling of thoughts) it was like he’d always belonged.

Feedback shrieked out of the field’s speakers and the team’s announcer called the audience to the home team’s entrance.

Shiro stood and took a few steps forward to lean against the metal bannister overlooking the field.

The Paladins football team rushed the field led by their star quarterback Allura.

And following right behind her was the light of Shiro’s life, and the best runningback the school had seen in years: Keith.

Like clockwork Keith’s attention immediately sought out the bleachers for his boyfriend, eyes locking onto him and throwing forth a bright smile that put the field lights to shame.

The team circled up to begin their warm-ups; Shiro mused about how his life was so different than he could have planned for himself, but it felt so good to be loved and wanted and to have someone to share all of himself with.

At one point in time, he might have even ridiculed idiots like himself in love.

Idiots like Allura and Lance, who had met on the side of the field when Allura stepped off to grab a drink of water and seemed wrapped up in their own little world. Lance hung off of Allura’s padded shoulders, whispering what was probably a sappy, sickening, cloyingly sweet series of words that Shiro was thankful he couldn't hear.

The head coach whistled for the team to roundup, preparing for one last pep talk.

As soon as he let them go, Keith dropped his helmet off on the bench, ran over to where Shiro was seated, and scaled the concrete foundation of the seats. The whooping of the rest of the followed him and he dutifully ignored them in favor of gripping the mesh t-shirt that Shiro donned to tug him forward into a kiss.

“Good luck, baby.” Shiro whispered against Keith’s lips, an indulgent smile appearing as he pressed another peck before shoving them apart.

Keith smirked, confidence rising, and he jumped back over the railing and launched himself towards his waiting team.

They had a game to win.


End file.
